Sparks
by g. deputy
Summary: How far is the average person willing to go for true love?
1. Chapter 1

**AN: thank you to those of you that read and reviewed by first fanfic! :) So this new one takes place in the far future. After they get married and all that good stuff. **

**And I don't own Hey Arnold!**

Arnold's arms hung limply at his sides. His right hand clinched tight around a bouquet of yellow daisies. He took a deep breath and coughed as the smell of bleach and alcohol overwhelmed his nose. For how much longer could he keep this up, really? The painful visits to the hospital that consisted of Arnold arranging flowers on the bed side table and ending with a tearful good bye to the wall. The doctors insisted she could hear him and recognize his voice but every time he opened his mouth, Arnold felt foolish. He didn't even have the heart to bring Franny anymore. Not that she really wanted to come visit in the first place.

He knew he had to make a decision. Now. Why did Helga have to leave him with such a heavy burden? The choice he had to make was bigger than he wanted to admit. _Screw the deadline, damn it!_ he thought. The young man's heart stayed on the first floor of the hospital as the elevator climbed upwards. He rubbed the back of his neck while the door opened to reveal his floor. Arnold swallowed hard. _How could this have been thrust in my hands_? The doors closed once again and he randomly pressed the buttons to each floor, as if he were going to play elevator races with Gerald for the last time. He would ride the elevator until he was good and ready to face the doctors. He would ride it until he knew how to explain things to Franny. As the elevator began to move once more, Arnold sunk to the floor and leaned his head against the wall. He would ride it until he was ready to face the love of his life. _This should not have been placed on me_. He placed the flowers on his knees, closed his eyes, and let his mind wander.

Arnold had always thought Helga was a fascinating creature_. No. Not was. She __**is**__. _He corrected himself. _She __**is **__certainly too complex for one person to handle alone._ One of the first things he spotted about her was how… aware she seemed about the rest of the world. He certainly did not have a firm grip on reality at the age of three and it seemed odd to the little boy that someone could look so sad; as though she had seen and felt things she shouldn't have. That first day of preschool, it seemed to the boy that little Helga had had more than her fair share of toddler troubles. The only thought the football headed kid was thinking at the time was to cheer up this mud splattered girl. _Who walks in the rain?_ he thought to himself. _She'll get sick._ He out stretched his umbrella with the smile; little did he know that Helga would need him for more than to get out of the rain. Even then, Arnold knew there was more to Helga than the bully that tormented the preschoolers. He knew it! He had seen her nice and shy outside in the rain and he didn't understand why she had jumped on top of that boy. At that point, young Arnold was utterly confused. What had happened to the girl with the pink bow?

_I shouldn't have given her my crackers. She's acting mean…_

Little Arnold turned to the sound of laughter in the corner. There was a little girl wearing glasses and a blue sweater sitting on the floor, hiding her face. A taller girl in pig tails and a red top had a finger pointed jeeringly at the smaller girl.

"You're a four eyes!" the girl in red laughed, her pigtails flapping on her head. "A geek!"

"Shut up Rhonda or you'll have a taste of Old Betsy, too!" Helga jumped in front of the quivering girl and pressed her nose into Rhonda's.

"Leave her alone geek bait!"

With that, Rhonda had strutted away with her head held high. Helga sat down next to Pheobe. "Don't worry" she said with a smirk, "they're a bunch of losers with paste for brains." She turned her head almost completely around and looked Arnold square in the eye. Arnold had to gasp; Helga's big blue eyes were full of anger. Helga had stuck out her tongue at him and blew him the grossest raspberry she could muster.

"Mr. Shortman?" Arnold was called back to reality by a nurse. The young man looked up in a at Helga's nurse in a daze. He hadn't even realized the moment the elevator door had opened.

"Hello, Lydia." He whispered so low she probably didn't hear.

"The doctor. She ready for you," Nurse Lydia said in a heavy Mexican accent. She outstretched her hand toward Arnold. He took it and almost got dizzy from the rush of blood to his head as he stood up. The kind nurse put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"It's time." She took him by the arm and led him off the elevator. She took the flowers out of Arnold's hand. She could see that he could hardly put on foot in front of the other. The walk to the doctor's office seemed endless. The fluorescent lights overhead where making Arnold see spots on the floor.

They finally arrived at the end of the hallway to the doctor's private office. Who many times has she delivered bad news to families in that room? _Does it get any easier with practice?_

"Go. Inside." Lydia gave him a soft push on the back as she sung open the door and slipped away.

Arnold stepped inside the tiny room and tried to compose himself.

"Hello, Arnold," said the doctor with a weak smile.

Arnold 'scratched' at his eye as he said with a breaking voice:

"Hello, Pheobe."

***This would only be the first chapter so i would like to know what you all think and I'll keep writing chapters :) Thanks!**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Fourth grader Franny Shortman took her front row seat in Mr. Simmons' class. She hadn't really felt like getting up that morning. It was hard to find the motivation to face the whispers and the rumors and the sad stares passed her way. _There has to be a way to get things back to normal._ She cupped her face in her hand and stared at the notes that Simmons had written on the board. They had stopped registering a long time ago. The voices of her chatty classmates slowly faded to the back of her mind and became a small throb at the base of her skull. Who cares about the latest gossip and the hottest trends that the Wellington Lloyd twins were discussing? Certainly not her.

"What's up with your hair, Blondie? You ok?"

Franny looked up into the face of her classmate Nate. She did a quick double take to make she wasn't seeing things. He put a hand on her scrawny shoulder. Nope, he was real alright. His tone was concerned and eyes brown eyes filled with worry. Franny turned a bright crimson.

"What do you mean?" she asked. Her unibrow rose until it hid underneath her bangs. _Great… I must look a mess. When was the last time I even looked in a mirror?_

"Your pigtails aren't straight…" he chuckled softly. He smiled sweetly at her.

"Oh…"

"Take your seats class!" Simmons yelped in his unnaturally happy tone. Nate gave her shoulder a final pat and returned to his seat. Franny's eyes stayed glued to the surface of her desk. "Time to start on our 'special' writing assignments that are' uniquely you'…."

Franny took the hair ties out of her hair and laid her head on her desk. Her dad had tried his best to do her hair that morning… his clumsy fingers had fumbled through her hair and had awkwardly tied it in place. Crooked, apparently. Mornings were always difficult now. Father and daughter wandered around the disorganized little house as if they had broken into it. They didn't wake up to the smell of breakfast cooking anymore. She never helped her dad with the crossword puzzles at the table anymore. They hardly ever spoke to each other at all. They were like shadows like shadows in a very dim room: they were there but one could barely tell. They had stopped trying… the neighbors grew worried when they noticed Arnold would go days without showering or shaving. Ms. Johansen was kind enough to send them prepared meals from time to time. Her lasagna was really good. _Mom always did my hair the way I like it… Funny how one second changes everything you ever knew. _

Simmons was still talking. And talking. And talking. The words flowed like water through her head. She was slowly slipping into her empty mind; void of any feelings but a familiar numbness. _Thank goodness it's Friday._

…_._

"Hello Arnold. Please have a seat." Pheobe gestured toward a chair with one hand while the other fiddled with her stethoscope. In a haze, Arnold pulled the chair away from the desk and sat down. The room looked like it was closing in on him, ready to crush his existence. He focused on the doctor's eyes instead and realized that he had been wrong to assume that this would somehow be easier for Pheobe.

She cleared her throat, attempting to keep a professional demeanor and began:

"As you know, the three month deadline has passed and the Board of Directors suggested..."

Arnold ran a hand through his tangled hair. He was tired of going in circles. "Just give it to me straight Pheobe." He immediately regretted almost snapping at Helga's life- long friend. They were in the same boat after all.

"Her brain function hasn't increased at all and now that she has been in intensive care for over three months, she either has to be moved to a home or be taken off…"

"I can't move her Phoebe." He interrupted. If Helga was moved out of the hospital to a Hospice or a home… it would mean that all hope was practically lost. At least at the hospital it seemed like there was a chance she would wake up again. But if she was moved to a home?

"Arnold, you may have eventually have to come to terms with the fact that-"

"No I don't! I'm not giving up on her! If she leaves this hospital, my hope leaves with her!" He buried his face in his hands as Pheobe put a comforting hand on his back.

"You have to be practical… you can't afford to keep her here any longer-"

"I'll get another mortgage on the house-"

"You have a child to think about. And Helga. What would she want?"

_She would want me to wait! She would want me to wait for her like she waited for me. Wouldn't she?_

He turned to face his friend. A single tear was rolling down her cheek as she locked eyes with his.

"If she's moved," Arnold voice quivered, "I don't think I can find the bright side."

Pheobe nodded sadly. This whole situation had not only broken Arnold; it had destroyed him.

"We've done all we can for her here in the hospital," she rambled. " You can't… you can't be selfish."

The young man took a few steps towards the door and leaned his head against the wall. If he listened hard enough, he could hear the sounds of the patient next door watching a wrestling match on television. He could smell the fragrance that was her unique scent as if she were standing right in front of him. He could see her smiling blue eyes and feel her hand in the empty spaces between his fingers. She was so _close._ But she wasn't _here._ He took a deep breath and tried not to take the comment personally.

"I don't want to be selfless."


End file.
